


Shatterdome Shorts

by DerpyMcButtface



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Newton Geiszler is the king of dorks, Turtles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpyMcButtface/pseuds/DerpyMcButtface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of short one-shots involving everyone, that were too short/too stupid to actually post as its own story.</p><p>Characters and short summary are denoted at the beginning of each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disability Accomadation

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Herc, Stacker, Wei Triplets, Kaidanovskys, Chuck 
> 
> Summary: As Herc helps Stacker with paperwork, the triplets try another way to get a turtle. Warning: word vomit.

Herc stamps another file with the red words “DENIED,” and turns back to the Marshall. The last few months, what with the search for one last pair of pilots, has been hard on Pentecost. Even if no one else can recognize the symptoms behind the iron face, Herc knows his friend too well to ignore that slight stutter in his usual impassiveness. Shaking his head, the Australian reaches for another file, before spotting a familiar dragon logo on the cover.

"Stacker."

"Hmm?"

"Petition from Crimson Typhoon."

Pentecost doesn’t even look up before replying. “Tell them that my answer was final.”

Herc nods, and is about to reach for the DENIED stamp again, but stops. “Oh… It’s a disability accommodation request.” 

"That belongs to Human Resources."

"HR forwarded it to you, Stacker."

A grumble barely escapes the older man’s throat. “What does it say?”

The pilot opens the file and glances over it. “Request for disability accommodation. ….Jin Wei has… Apparently, Jin Wei has gone blind and needs a seeing eye animal. Due to allergies, he requests a turtle.”

Stacker grabs the red stamp himself and slams it down on the file, barely missing Herc’s fingers.

——————————————————————————————

_Lt. Kaidanovsky, thank you for the offer, but I believe that strapping a nuclear warhead to every Jaeger would not increase the effectiveness of the mission any._

Herc sighs and mimics Stacker’s signature on the bottom of the memo. “I told Sasha no. Is that all right?”

"Yes."

"What? Yes?"

"No, I mean no. As in ‘No, we do not need any more nuclear bombs for the mission but thank you.’"

"I’ll add the thank you, then." Herc finishes off the file. He looks at the next private memo. "…I’m assuming that you are still going to refuse her suggestion that all inter-team disputes over control of the speaker system be solved via cage fight?"

"…Please tell her ‘no.’"

"All right." Herc groans as he eyes the next file. "It’s from HR again. From Crimson Typhoon."

"Read it."

"Request for disability accommodation. Jin Wei has severe PTSD and requires an emotional support companion to keep from breaking down in public. He requests that due to his special needs, it be small, reptilian, and have a shell- for God’s sake…"

Stacker already has the DENIED stamp in his hand.

——————————————————————

Herc is about to call it a day for that evening when he sees the remaining envelops in Stacker’s inbox. Not wanting his oldest friend to work through the night a second time, he sighs and takes it. “Oh, a memo from Striker Eureka.” 

"I’ll let you handle that," Stacker says, leafing through lists of the names of Wall workers. 

"Can’t be anything I haven’t heard- …Chuck?"

Pentecost looks up, puzzled. 

Herc reads over the briefing, his expression growing darker and darker with every paragraph. 

"What does he want."

"Nothing. I’ll take care of it," Herc mutters, dropping his imitation of Pentecost’s handwriting and scrawling down a very pointed message in the Reply box. "…I am going to gut that boy one of these days."

"And I will join you," Stacker says dryly.

Sighing, Herc reaches for the next envelope. A familiar red logo is on the cover. “You’re not going to want to see this.”

"Tell Lt. Kaidanovsky that we find anyone else tied up and left in a filing cabinet for the janitorial staff to find, I will have a long, serious talk with her."

"No, worse. Disability Accommodation. Jin Wei is mentally retarded and the only way that he can-"

Pentecost calmly slams the DENIED stamp down on the cover. He then opens the folder and proceeds to stamp every page of the accommodation request. 

"Herc, can you pass me some printer paper?"

Herc does so, and Pentecoast calmly stamps each of them. “Return these with the request form, and tell them that their next disability request should be printed on this paper, just to save us all some time,” he grumbles.

———————————

_Lt. Kaidanovsky: Although we appreciate your offer for you and your husband to be send as messengers to Hannibal Chau, we already have a full staff of communication officers for that purpose. We believe that your valuable time is better spent within the Jaeger Program._

Herc signs the letter with Pentecost’s signature. “I have a feeling that the Russians are used to doing things a little bit differently from you.”

"I am beginning to believe that they have the right idea," Pentecost admitted. It had been a long day- but then again, so was everyday for Pentecost.

The Australian gives a small smile and shakes his head. “I know,” he said sympathetically, and reaches for another folder.

The Crimson Typhoon logo stares back at him like the most annoying mythical creature in the world.

"Stacker. Stacker."

"What is it?"

"…Religious Accommodation request." 


	2. Stay In School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Raleigh Becket, Yancy Becket, Newton Geizler, Hermann Gottlieb, Kaidanovskys, mentions of Matador Fury.  
> Summary: In an attempt to address the rising worldwide school dropout rates in the face of the Kaiju crisis, the World Education Foundation tries to air PSAs featuring Rangers telling kids to stay in school. It doesn’t work.

Raleigh was used to the bright lights of the studio. Being filmed was nothing new to him, but the subject matter today was not Kaiju, or Jaegers, or even an interview.

He squinted at the teleprompter behind the cameras, and mustered up the brightest smile that he could. Next to it, the director, a Mexican woman named Estella, gesticulated furiously at it.

“Uh… Stay… In school. Um. I guess,” Raleigh finally read off the screen.

“Cut!” Estella shouted, and turned to him with a frosty smile. “Mr. Becket. The line is just ‘Stay in School.’ I don’t know where you’re getting all those extra syllables.”

“Sorry, my bad. Yance, you wanna try?”

“Cameras rolling again,” the cameraman announced.

This time, it was Yancy’s turn to read off. “Um, you stay in school… Well, I actually don’t really know.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I really don’t think I’m the best person to talk about this.”

“Come on, Mr. Becket, either one of you just say the line,” Estella shouted, and waved a hand at the camera crew to keep rolling.

“Rangers say, ‘Stay in school’,” Raleigh said, and gave what he hoped was a winning smile.

“Stay in school,” Yancy agreed, and looked to the next line on the teleprompter. “Insert relevant experience about your education experience- oh, I wasn’t supposed to read that aloud, was I?”

“Keep going,” Estella snapped. “We’ll edit that out.”

Raleigh and Yancy gave each other anxious looks. Neither of them liked lying, much less telling a bold-faced lie to millions of children.

“Uh. I actually don’t really know what happens when you stay in school. …We kind of dropped out of school to join the Jaeger Academy…” Raleigh said slowly.

“So yeah…” Yancy shifted in his seat. “So yeah, drop out of school and join the Academy, kids.”

“No!” Estella shouted. “Stop the cameras- erase that line  _right now!_ ”

“What- what did we do?” Raleigh exclaimed. “It said to-“

“Thank you for your contributions, Mr. and Mr. Becket,” Estella said sternly.

“But-“

“ _Thank you._  You may go.”

Shrugging, the brothers got up and walked off the set.

Estella sighed. Her chronic migraine was flaring up again, and none of the Rangers were helping much. Big heroes? She didn’t care how many of those damned scaly things they had throttled if she couldn’t even count on them to say one damn line. So far, only Matador Fury’s pilots had produced usable footage. Unfortunately, it was all in Spanish- good to air in Latin American countries, not so great for the rest of the world.

“Can you call in the next team?” she grumbled to her assistant Ginny.

“Yes…”

The Mexican woman sat back and tried to tune out the world for a little while. The throbbing near her ears was just getting worse and worse. She opened her eyes again to see a man built somewhere along the lines of a small mountain walk on the set.

“Good afternoon- Mr. Kaidanovsky,” she said, putting on her professional face.

“Lieutenant,” he grumbled with a heavy Russian accent.

“My apologies. Lieutenant. So, are you familiar with why you are here today?”

“Yes.”

Usually, Estella would have repeated the introduction anyways, but something about the Russian made it apparent that he was not going to be sitting there for longer than strictly necessary.

“All right. Cameras on. Lieutenant, can you please read the line on the screen?”

With a tectonic movement, the man looked up at the screen. “Stay in school?” he snorted.

“Yes… Please say the line?”

“Stay in school? Why stay in school? Why? I never have school, I become Jaeger pilot.”

“Well, not everyone can be a Jaeger pilot, can they?” Estella snapped.

“Then sell heroin! I not go to school, I sell heroin, make more money than friends who go to school. Learn more English that way too.” Lieutenant Kaidanovsky looked at the camera and said seriously, “School is waste. Drugs is what make money.”

“School is  _not_  a waste of-“ Estella exclaimed hotly.

“Bah! If you rich, go to school! If you not have money, school is no good! It is only for rich people!”

“Lieutenant-“

“Fuck school! Fuck rich people! Fuck you, Mr. Chekov- it was  _me_  who burned your factory down and cut off your son’s nose! Who is rat now, huh?” the Russian boomed, making a fist at the camera. “See how far school take him now, with no nose and with no legs!”

Estella smiled blankly at the Ranger, not believing what she was hearing.

“Someone get Sasha,” the PDCC representative next to her said weakly. “Paging, Lt. Kaidanovsky, tell her get here STAT.”

“Haha, now that I speak English you have listen to me! You not listen to me before? Say ‘Stupid Aleksis, he dumb rat, no good for anything?’ Look who is the stupid one now! Now, it is me who have wife and job and you have  _nothing!_  I hope you die like your brother, because it was  _me_  who kill Nikolai! Haha! Five months in jail is no trouble! I sell even more heroin!”

The door opened, and the other Kaidanovsky strode. “What is the problem?” Sasha asked coolly. “Someone said there was an emergency.”

“Your husband is making murder confessions on film,” Estella said.

“He’s talking about Chekov.”

“Again? Who let him start talking about Chekov?” Sasha demanded, but sighed. “Nevermind that- Aleksis!” she shouted.

The big man stopped talking immediately, and smiled at her.

Sasha sighed and began talking in rapid-fire Russian. Aleksis looked down guiltily and plodded off the stage, muttering something.

Still talking, the two Russians left out of the exit.

Estella tried not to cry.

“Well… We can just concentrate on Latin America for now…” her assistant suggested.

“At this rate… There aren’t any other Rangers in this country that we haven’t tried,” Estella admitted. “Maybe we can give Mammoth Apostle another shot, this time with a fire extinguisher on hand-“

There was the thumping of footsteps, and a small, enthusiastic figure leapt onto the studio space.

Estella squinted. “Who’s he? That’s not Marcus-“

“Newt-something, from K-Science,” Ginny whispered.

“So he’s not a Ranger? Then what’s he doing here?”

“He must have just showed up- someone get him off!” Estella exclaimed, but it was too late.

Newt had already made himself comfortable on the set. “Hi!” he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. “

“Newton! Newton Geizler, get off of there!” an angry voice shouted, as a very angry man with a cane hobbled up to the side of the set.

“Shut up Hermann, I’m bringing kids to science! Hey kids!” Newton shouted. “Stay in school! Go biology! Physics sucks!”

“Stop rolling, stop rolling!” Estella snapped at the cameraman, but he ignored her in favor of doubling over in laughter.

“Because science is cool! Like I’m cool!” the scientist continued, rolling up his sleeves to show off his half-completed tattoos.

“No you’re not,” the cameraman muttered, choking back tears.

“I’m in a band, you know! And if you work hard and stay in school, you can end up like  _me_ and work with Kaiju shit  _everyday!_ ”

Estella stared blankly at the gangly man and his crooked teeth and his leftover pockmarks, and sighed. “Cut.”

The moment the cameras stopped, the limping man thudded over to where Newton was posing proudly, and grabbed the collar of his neck. “Newton, come with me immediately. Your behavior was absolutely unacceptable, and I cannot  _believe_  that you have the nerve to invade someone’s-“

“What? Hey! I’m making kiddies stay in school!”

“No, Newton, if anyone ever thought a good education would magically transform them into a  _groupie,_  all public schools would be empty by tomorrow!” His voice disappeared as he forcibly led the other scientist out of the door.

Estella sighed. “So… What’s the chance that we can teach Gonzales and Lopez English in two hours?”


	3. Word Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Wei Triplets (mainly Jin), Kaidanovskys, Raleigh Beckett, Herc Hansen, Chuck Hansen.  
> Summary: During Raleigh's Welcome Tour with Herc, Jin takes advantage of Aleksis’s lack of English slang knowledge and it makes everyone feel really awkward.

Jin Wei was probably the bravest man Raleigh had ever met.

It started in the shatterdome gym, during his welcome-to-the-Shatterdome tour with Herc.

"It’s nothing fancy… Crowded…" Herc explained, apologetically, tripping over a duct-taped treadmill.

Used to the wide-open space of the Anchorage gym, Raleigh nodded as he hit his forehead on a swing bar. The ceilings of the Hong Kong gym seemed to close in on him, but he welcomed how jarringly different it was from the gym that he and Yancy frequented so often. He didn’t think that he would be able to take more than a step in otherwise.

"But hey, Rangers still get nameplates on their lockers. So… That’s…" The Australian laughed ruefully. "Here, come in. I’ll find one for you." He pushed open the door to the locker room. "Oh. Hey, Jin."

One of the triplets, apparently Jin, sipped a bottle of water rather cattishly. “Hey,” he replied casually, giving Raleigh a curious once-over. The Chinese man had a moderate accent, but his flippant demeanor turned it into more of a cosmopolitan urbanite sound than an accent. “Aleksis, look, it’s Pentcost’s guy.”

Next to him, a form that was either a very small tectonic plate or a very tall man ignored him.

Jin sighed and slapped the other man’s, now dubbed Aleksis, massive shoulder. “Hey, hey, bro!” he whined.

"Oh, leave him, Jin," Herc scolded. Raleigh got the distinct impression that this sort of thing was a common occurrence. "There’s few of us as is, without him squashing you-"

What started as a jib quickly quenched the atmosphere with a sort of dullness, a sense of impending dread.

Jin sighed. “Hey, what’s that Scottish, Australian, whatever song again?”

Herc dutifully recited the last verse. “But year after year, more old men disappear, and soon no one will march there at all.”

"Less women too," Raleigh joked half-heartedly, trying to lift the mood.

He had been referring to the disappearance of the fans known as the Jaeger flies, but Herc took his words a different way. “Yeah… Not many ladies left in the program, towards the end. Hell, not much of anyone left in end anyways, but that’s how it goes. The Inferno Muse twins were the last ladies, weren’t they? Those Thai girls. Now there’s just Sasha.”

Aleksis gave a loud guffaw that shook the bench beneath him. “Ladies? Sasha is not lady. Sasha is damn cunt,” he said proudly.

Raleigh froze, smiling awkwardly, looked at Herc in astonishment, and then back at Aleksis. “Hey, sorry man. I think I misheard? What did you say?”

"Sasha is a damn cunt," the Russian repeated calmly, using up an entire roll of athletic tape to reinforce an arm the circumference of a soccer ball. 

"No, you didn’t mishear," Jin said casually, taking another long drink from his water bottle. "She’s a damn cunt, right?" 

"Yes." Aleksis gave a solemn nod. "Are you not believing me?" he dangerously.

"Sorry?" Raleigh repeated helplessly. 

"That Sasha is a damn cunt."

Raleigh gave Herc a desperate look, only to find the Australian carefully avoiding eye contact.

"Yep," Jin agreed, finishing off his soda. He flashed Raleigh a mischievous smile. "You know, a strong woman, a survivor? Yeah. See you, I need a coffee," the Chinese man yawned, sauntering out of the locker room with a towel draped over his shoulder.

Aleksis ripped the tape free. It felt like the stone floor of the gym shook when the man slowly stood up and made his way to the exit, all without saying another word to them.

The locker room door slammed, and Raleigh swallowed hard. ”Do you think Mr. Kaidanovsky knows what that word means?” he asked nervously.

"With the Russians, well, it could really go either way…" Herc replied, seeming rather nonplussed about it all. "I’m afraid I don’t know them that well, beyond their Jaeger. He could have meant it jokingly, for all I know."

Somehow, Raleigh couldn’t imagine the stern-faced giant joking about anything, but then again, it wasn’t like he was an expert on Russian humor. “I see.”

Herc sighed. “Well… So, this is the locker room. Feel free to use it. I know this is a sudden change for you. There’s been… A lot of changes.”

"A lot."

"Well, you’ll get back in the swing of things soon." Herc smiled warmly and gave him a thump on the back. "That’s what you’ve always been good at, eh?"

Raleigh managed a small smile. “Thanks, Herc. I’ll see you around.”

"Let me know if there’s anything you need."

"Thanks."

0000000000000000000

Things only came to a head three days later, in the canteen.

Despite all the noise of breakfast, from the clanking of silverware to the roar of conversation in at least five different languages, a sudden absence of a familiar rhythmic noise was particularly noticeable.

Herc was first to look up warily, followed by Chuck and Max, and finally Raleigh who was only looking up because everyone else was.

Near the congee station, Sasha Kaidanovsky held the triplets’ basketball, idly passing it from hand to hand. “Good morning,” she said curtly, her giant husband behind her, his face impassive.

"Oops. Sorry, that’s ours." Cheung held out a hand for it.

She didn’t pass it back, and the awkward seconds ticked by her.

"I heard you have been giving my husband English lessons," Sasha said, clinking her ringed fingers together.

Cheung and Hu slowly turned to stare at their brother. “Jin,” Hu said faintly, and spoke in rapid-fire Chinese.

"Mmhmm," Jin said easily, and both his brothers groaned aloud. 

"Well?" Sasha asked coldly. 

"Yeah, sort of. He just kind of picked it up, really." Jin gave an innocent shrug. Fast learner, isn’t he?"

"I am thankful," she continued, giving him a shark-like smile that did not extend to her eyes. "In fact, I am so thankful, I am going to help you learn Russian. Do you know what the word  _ubiystvo_  means?” 

"Means you’re getting me a turtle for New Year’s, right?" the Chinese man asked cheekily.

"Homicide. It means homicide." Sasha cracked her knuckles casually and took a step forward.

Without as much as a look exchanged between the three of them, the triplets clustered close for the barest moment before immediately flying off in three different directions, weaving between people and one furious technician in a maneuver that could only be described as distinctly military.

Raleigh stood up. “Uh… Should we-“

"Sit down, fucking moron, you got a deathwish?" Chuck snorted as the Russians took off in pursuit. 

"I’m always glad to see Ranger training put to good use," Herc muttered. "Welcome to Hong Kong, Raleigh. You’ll get used to it fast."


End file.
